Just, Perfect
by ifwednesdaywasaflowerchild
Summary: While working undercover with Flynn, Jake and Cassie pretend to be married, and find referring to each other as husband and wife feels...just, perfect.


It's a slip.

Well - no, not really. They're undercover so it isn't really a slip but it isn't exactly unnatural, either. It sounds normal, something he says everyday, like it is just part of their lives. Given it isn't everyday, they're trying to steal an ancient artifact from a cranky old Ukrainian warhorse, still, it isn't something that sounds odd.

"I still don't understand why we had to do this." Jake clenches his teeth, arm tightening around Cassie's waist. "Can't you just steal the thing?"

"No." Flynn is practically splitting in two with the force of his grin. "You need to make sure I'm not followed. And, killed."

"These men are looking at Cassie like she's a piece of meat." Jake growls at the Librarian.

"That's why you're here, Cowboy." Flynn winks at Ezekiel, who is fighting against laughter. "Play up the role of her husband. Pretend you're jealous."

Jake just growls.

Cassie shuffles closer, frowning as yet another drunken dignitary, at least twice her age, shuffled past, brushing unnecessarily close. "Haven't they ever heard of personal space?"

Ezekiel coughs harshly to cover up his snort of disbelief. Since when did Cassandra 'must-touch-Stone' Cillian care about personal space? Her and Stone didn't seem to have any sense of it, always touching in some way, hugging if the occasion called for it. Hell, for all he knew, personal space was a mere concept to them, not a reality.

"You're probably the prettiest thing these old warhorses have seen in a long time, Cassandra." Flynn reminds her softly, careful to keep his voice low. "Just relax. Now, Stone, you keep an eye out. If we're followed, you know the code?"

Stone nods, brushing his hand against the phone shaped lump in the inside pocket of his jacket. Flynn and Ezekiel slip into the crowd, off to find the artifact, while Jake and Cassie stay on the outskirts of the party, pretending to be there on the invite of a casual acquaintance. They'll be Flynn's spotters, texting him if their count comes up a head or more short of the number Cassie had produced within seconds of being inside.

"Jake?" Cassie nestles against his side, despite the warmth of the crowded room. Jake is a different sort of warm. He's familiar and comfortable, not the sweaty arrogance of men stuffed into thousand dollar suits.

"Hmmm?"

"I want to go home." she mumbles quietly so only he can hear her.

"I know, baby." Jake sighs, absently rubbing her side. "I want to leave, too."

Cassie can't help but pout a little bit at being stuck in this situation. While, normally, she enjoyed undercover work, this just wasn't ranking very high on the list of enjoyable jobs. Her dress is too tight and shows too much and she wobbles precariously on her heels. Not to mention, these men. If you could call them that. They insisted on staring at her or brushing way too close to her.

"How 'bout I go get us a couple of drinks up at the bar?" he murmurs, kissing her soft curls. "You can wait here. I shouldn't be a minute. I don't think these men will keep their hands to themselves if you go runnin' around in that dress."

"I don't think I can run anywhere in these stupid shoes." Cassie grumbles, looking down at the spikes of death strapped to her feet.

He just laughs a little. "I know." a quick glance around the room. "But, I don't need these men gettin' all handsy with you. So, you wait here. I'll be back."

"Okay." she nods, "Soda, please?"

"Sure."

Jake gives her one last affectionate squeeze before sliding through the crowd to find the bar and a couple of cold drinks, leaving her to awkwardly wait for him to come back. He's made it no more than ten feet when someone sees her alone and goes in for the kill.

"I see you finally got rid of your miserable date." oh, gross. His attempt at smooth and suave is creepy, considering by her estimation, he's old enough to be her grandfather. Not to mention his oily voice made her stomach churn.

"Um, he just went to get us drinks." Cassie points in the vague direction of the bar. "He'll be right back."

"Oh, we can be gone, by then."

"Excuse me?" her stomach knots anxiously, eyes darting around, looking for any sign of Jake's return. "I'm not leaving here with anyone but the person I came with. I am not a toy to be passed around."

"Come on, baby." he coos, reaching for her. "Leave your miserable date and we'll go to my hotel room. I've got champagne and strawberries."

"I'm allergic." She's not. In fact, she adores strawberries, but she really has zero interest in this man and is willing to lie through her teeth if it will make him leave her alone. Desperation has her adding, "I get this gross rash, if I even look at a strawberry."

"That's okay." well, he just didn't know how to take a freaking hint. "I'll have something else brought up."

"I'm really not -" but, Cassie gets no further because he's moving closer, hemming her up in the corner, leaving her with no room for escape. "I'm not interested. I'm married," she holds up her left hand, showing off the glittering silver wedding set she was sporting for this case. "I love my husband."

Huh.

Husband.

That felt... right. Easily imagined, at any rate. But, before her imagination can take her too far away, she hears Jake coming to her rescue. "Excuse me," his voice is low and dangerous. "What exactly are you doing to my wife?"

"You are her husband?" the creepy dignitary spins away from Cassie, staring at Jake with disbelief. "She married you? "

Jake looks down at his left hand, where a matching band sat on his ring finger. "Unless this ring means somethin' else, yes."

"I can't believe a gorgeous girl like her would marry an idiot like you."

"Well, sir," Jake grins, a little of that rogue bar brawler coming out to play. "Unlike you, I have a decent amount of respect for her. I don't force myself on her in a secluded corner and make her uncomfortable. She's holding her arms up." he motions to Cassie, who is turning into the wall, arms up in a defensive manner. "She doesn't feel safe. Now, I could tell that the second I walked up. You've been with her a couple of minutes, now, and haven't figured it out, yet. I'd say only one of us here is an idiot. I'm not above throwin' a couple punches to a protect a woman. Do you want to find out how far I'd go for my wife?"

"You'd fight, here?" He's flirting with a sexual assault charge, but sounds scandalized that a husband would dare defend his wife.

"Well," Jake takes a quick look around. "It'd be the fanciest bar brawl I've been in but sure. For her, I'd do just about anything."

The dignitary stands there for a moment, nerve sufficiently struck by a man who is, for all he knows, nothing more than a bar brawling thug. It takes him a few seconds of sizing Jacob up to finally admit defeat with a nasty snarl. "Have her."

He stalks off to lick his wounds.

Jake gives a quiet whistle of astonishment, moving closer to Cassie. He hands her the glass of club soda, and reaches out to touch her arm. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah." Cassie nods, eyes still wide. "I'm alright."

"That asshole had a hell of a lot of nerve." he mumbles, squeezing her arm. "Hopefully Flynn's found the artifact and we can leave, soon."

Cassie just nods, not quite able to relax, just yet. It takes another twenty minutes for Flynn to text them directions to the back door. They tumble through, clinging to each other, both still tense from the exchange with someone, who is supposed to be a respected political figure.

But, that's not all that has them on edge.

She'd called him her husband. Jacob Stone. Her fellow Librarian, her best friend, and in a lot of ways, her other half. She'd stood before that slimy prick, displayed the (fake) ring on her finger, and proudly proclaimed to be married and called him her husband. And, it had felt right. Good, even. Imagining standing before him in a white dress, exchanging real rings, real vows, kissing him, and starting a whole new life, together. Going on a new adventure with him. Feeling connected to him in a whole new way. Being intimate and close. Protecting him the way he protected her. It all seemed so _perfect._

And, he - he'd called her his wife. Using the title with such pride, even as he threatened someone. Daring them to find out how far he'd go for her. It'd seemed so natural, rolling off his tongue. Not calling her Cassie, but his wife, looking down at his wedding band, and thinking about how good it felt to wear it. To feel connected to her in such an intimate way. Wife seemed to hold a lot more weight than her name. Seemed to carry a lot more emotionally than simply calling her his best friend or just Cassie. And, it had felt so good think about.

Perfect, even.

Yeah.

Just, perfect.


End file.
